


Little Secrets

by wertdifferenz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wertdifferenz/pseuds/wertdifferenz
Summary: What happens when someone finds your biggest little secret?Lance is working in a coffeeshop, together with Keith, who he definitely doesn't like. Definitely!All comes down when a little secret of Lance gets exposed!
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	Little Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> A story written for the Four Seasons of Klance Zine, in collaboration with the lovely [ Shuidelea](https://www.instagram.com/shuideleau/) on Instagram!

“One cappuccino to go,” Lance repeats the order he just got and finishes up his little doodle of a lion on the cup before sliding it over. It bumps against five other cups that are waiting to get filled drinks.

They are in the middle of rush-hour, Lance at the register, Keith at the coffee-machines. They work better that way, since Lance knows how to make small-talk with people long enough to get Keith a bit more time to make the drinks, and because Keith is twice as fast as putting every order together than any other person who works here.

They are a good team, the best even when it comes to managing the counter. Hunk is in the kitchen, Pidge is keeping the tables clean, their boss Coran is in the back trying to call more staff, and Lance and Keith are just here, being the good team they are.

The best team even, if it comes to Lance, but he‘d be damned if he ever let Keith, or anyone else for that matter, know of his opinion. 

Keith is his rival after all, that one person people think Lance will never get along with, his nemesis when they are not in the middle of rush-hour and definitely— most definitely not his crush.

(Definitely not!)

Lance pushes that thought aside and takes the order of the next college student. Poor thing looks like a zombie, must have stayed up all night to study or finish a project. A week before Halloween every young customer looks like this, and even Lance and his colleagues are pulling an all-nighter every other day to finish everything on time. 

Between two customers Lance‘s eyes move over the open space of the shop. To say it‘s beautiful is an understatement. Even with two dozen people loitering at the tables in- and outside the café, the view he has from his counter is breathtaking, and the only thing besides the double-shot frappuccino right next to his register that‘s keeping him awake. 

The shop is located inside an old factory building. A big, british real estate company bought it a couple years ago, turned the upper part into spacious lofts and the lower part into a pretty office building with the coffee shop at the corner.

The high walls of the shop are filled with books and carved pumpkins, making it look more like a witchlike library than a café. Customers are welcomed to read during their stay, either outside in a little patio area or inside under a ceiling made of glass that lets enough light into the building to grow a tree.

A literal oak, wrapped in a round bookshelf that‘s snaking its way up towards the lowest branches.

Lance has been working here for three years, but still hasn‘t gotten used to it‘s sheer beauty. Sure, the leaves are annoying to clean up sometimes, but just looking at the beautiful golden and brown colors that get complimented with their glowing halloween decoration makes every hour spent picking up acorns worth it.

“Excuse me?” a light voice asks tentatively. 

Lance gets catapulted back to the here and now. The quick glance over the shop turned into a whole staring session, and his face heats up as he gets back to his actual job.

“Sorry, what can I do for you?” He scribbles the next order onto a sticky paper before putting a cup into Keith‘s queue. The stare Keith is sending him gets purposely ignored, just like the grin Keith is hiding behind his brandnew cup.

The reason why Lance‘s eyes strayed over the shop in the first place is a little book he hid yesterday. It‘s in the corner of the shop, right behind a small table where Coran usually sits to get out of his stuffy office. 

His book looks pretty normal when it‘s stacked under a couple of other books. The blue, wordless cover is adorned with stars from Lance‘s star sign and golden painted frame around it. People tend to overlook it since it doesn‘t have a name, and because Lance makes sure to hide it in places where no one really notices, like the bottom shelf at the tree, or the highest shelf under the stairs, or the shelf that Coran usually covers with his whole body. 

The book, which isn‘t actually a book but a little box disguised as one, holds Lance‘s most precious (and embarrassing) memories. A picture of his abuelita and him when he was six and lost the whole frontrow of his teeth. A letter he wrote to his first crush in third grade and never gave to her. Another letter he wrote to his second crush in fifth grade and never gave to him. A tiny plastic figure of an elephant he stole from his sister when they were ten; you know, stuff like this. 

Stuff he can‘t hide at home. He still lives with his parents after all, just like his eldest brother with his wife and children. His family is noisy, and they like to snoop around, especially his niece and nephew. Keeping the box at home would be a fatal mistake that’s just waiting to bite him in the butt quicker than he can prepare a lactose-free milk coffee. 

Which is the next order by the way. 

“Would you like the coffee to go?” Lance asks while putting the order into his register. 

The woman takes a second to think about it, her eyes moving over the free tables before he gets back to Lance with a smile. “No, I‘d like to drink it here.” 

Lance nods and gets his trusty marker to scribble the order on a sticky note before sliding a new cup into Keith‘s cue. It has gotten significantly smaller over the course of Lance‘s mindless staring, and Keith looks even a bit bored now. Time to pick up the pace again.

Three people down and Lance notices the woman with the lactose-free milk coffee sitting at Coran‘s usual table, scanning the shelves behind her. His heart sinks through his stomach and the wooden floorboards under his feet as her hand graces over his box, but fortunately her attention settles on a book right next to it. 

His secret is safe. For now. 

With a sigh he gets back to his customers, but he can’t keep his mind off his hiding spot. He only found the space yesterday, but it seems that it’s not sufficient after all. Coran is his trump card for this spot, but when he‘s not around the shelf is not safe enough. 

Lance just took his break though, so he can‘t hide the box until the shop is closed and everyone went home. Especially Keith. Super-especially Keith, because most of the memories Lance keeps in his box have something— or rather only— to do with him. 

Like the little sticky note Lance wrote for Keith‘s first ever order in their shop. 

Keith was very quiet when he started working here. He‘s still very quiet, but back then— wow. Just wow. Even in space you‘d hear more sounds than whatever left Keith‘s plump lips. 

Lance tried his best to fli— to talk to him, like he did with every new person. But instead of a proper greeting or a simple smile, he got the worst frown he ever saw on a person‘s face; a scowl that lasted through the day and the rest of the week.

Lance instantly disliked Keith. He was shitty at interacting with customers, even shittier with colleagues; literally so bad that Lance wondered how Keith got the job in the first place. 

That was until Lance had to teach him all the drinks. Training the newbies usually takes a couple of days, but Keith managed to remember all the drinks— even the seasonal ones— in less than an hour, and he has yet to make a mistake preparing them. It was that moment Lance realized that Keith must have some photogenic brain when it comes to coffee that he started hating that guy for real. 

Totally not admiring him. 

(Definitely not!)

The shift that started right after Keith‘s introduction was just as busy as usual, but they got work done much quicker. In record time Keith managed to prepare every drink Lance ordered, from simple coffee to hazelnut-caramel frappuccinos with chocolate drizzles and sprinkles as decoration. Every single drink, up until they closed seven hours later. 

As unimpressed as Lance was at Keith‘s work, he couldn‘t help but save the sticky note of the last order of the day. A simple, black tea with a dash of almond milk Keith ordered for himself and Lance wrote down as a joke. He didn‘t get a reaction, not a smile or an eye roll. 

What he did got was the note, stuck on his register when he started his shift the next day. He thought about throwing it away, about starting a sticky-note-war, but in the end— and don‘t ask him why he did that— he put the note into the pocket of his jeans and took it back home with him. 

The note landed in the box, the box in the shop, and soon after Lance started adding even more memories.

Memories like an acorn that fell on Pidges head, or a little bookmark that Hunk made for him, or a four-leaved clover Coran found in the shop‘s garden and pressed in a book. 

Memories like a drawing from himself, a few from his niece and nephew, and even one from a girl that came to their shop once. 

Lance doesn‘t know how, but he and Keith somehow always managed to get the same shifts. At first Lance thought they might have the same schedule at their colleges until he found out that Keith doesn‘t go to college. Then he thought Keith might want to annoy him by asking to be paired up all the time, but it seemed like he was just as annoyed as Lance was. Lastly Lance figured that Coran must force them together so they learn how to operate as a team, but—

Well, no but. That‘s actually what happened. 

Thanks to Coran‘s persistence they went from constants fights and horribly stupid insults to… well, to a comfortable silence. Lance didn‘t mock Keith‘s hairstyle anymore and Keith stopped misusing Lance‘s nicknames as comebacks. Lance acknowledged that Keith is actually a decent guy and Keith spared him the eyerolls and irritated frowns. 

Lance works at the register and Keith prepares the orders. Simple as that. 

They had a pretty slow afternoon when a mom and her daughter came into the shop. Lance leaned on his counter to get a better look at the girl. She was around five, wore a beautiful red dress and a little tiara on her head. 

“Hello princess,” Lance grinned, getting a blinding smile in return, “how are you today?”

The girl clapped her hands together and jumped a couple of times, her excitement obvious to everyone around her. “I‘m great!” she squealed loudly, only calming down when her mom hushed her softly. She quickly put a finger on her mouth, mirroring her mother before getting back to Lance, a lot quieter. “It‘s my birthday!”

Ah, that explained a lot!

“Oh, really? Then happy birthday to you, sweetheart,” Lance chuckled. He sent her mom a questioning look, glancing towards the cookies to his right and back at her. She nodded quickly, her own smile growing soft as she watched her daughter talk to him. 

“Good thing you told me,” Lance winked at the little girl, “because you are getting a birthday cookie!” Another blinding smile is what he got, and a bunch of ‚thank you‘s as he walked her through their selection. She settled for a big chocolate-chip cookie which she held like a treasure between her tiny hands. 

“Honey,” her mom said to get her attention, “what do you want to drink?”

“Hot chocolate—” the girl piped up, mouth already stuffed with the first bite of her cookie. “Please!” she added after her mom tapped her head as a reminder before ordering her own drink and paying for the both of them. 

With a smile Lance sent them in Keith‘s direction, who had been watching him with amusement. Since there were no other people in waiting to order, Lance watched Keith how he prepared the mother‘s coffee first and, to his surprise, the most amazing hot chocolate he had ever seen for the little girl next. 

“Whoa!” The girl almost dropped her cookie when she saw Keith‘s monstrosity of a drink. Not only did he put some extra chocolate and caramel sauce on top, but he managed to find the chocolate straws they only used for Christmas-themed drinks, as well as some golden springles that he mixed with some rainbow sprinkles from the kitchen. “That‘s so pretty!”

Yeah, no shit. Keith really outdid himself, and literally every other barista that every worked here. 

The girl's eyes sparkled with joy. Lance could literally see little stars form in them and hearts swirl around her head. “I love you, mister!”

Of course, she did. 

Her mom sighed and shook her head at the girl. “No, honey,” she murmured, sounding like she explained this a thousand times already, “you should say ‚thank you‘.”

The girl looked up to her, eyes big, a bit confused. “But mom! Look at the sprinkles!” She pointed at the tip of her drink and before lifting her eyes at Keith again. “I love him.”

Lance burst into laughter the moment the mom and her kid stepped onto the patio outside and therefore out of earshot. Keith‘s face didn‘t show any signs of embarrassment, but his ears were bright red, a clear sign that this whole interaction was just too much for him. 

“Didn‘t know you have a heart,” Lance joked, bumping Keith‘s shoulder and getting a frown in return. There weren‘t any customers at the counter, but some sat around the shop, so Keith had to act somewhat civil around Lance. 

“Couldn‘t let you one-up me with that cookie, smartass,” he huffed, even though he looked like he wanted to tackle Lance to the ground and let him choke on those golden sprinkles. 

Half an hour later the girl came back with two drawings, one for Keith and one for him. Her drop-dead gorgeous smile only brightened as both of them accepted her presents with delight. Lance couldn‘t help but notice how Keith didn‘t stop smiling for the rest of the day, not towards him and not towards his customers, just towards himself. 

It made Lance smile in return, knowing that their little present didn‘t only make a little girl happy, but Keith as well. 

Back then he‘d never would have admitted that though. Things were different then, they weren‘t friends after all, only colleagues who entertained their patrons with their constant bickering. 

Things changed almost too quickly when Lance‘s birthday rolled around a few weeks later. He took the whole day off, planned to spend it with his family, big breakfast in the morning, shopping in the afternoon, a party in the evening. Just as easy as plans are made though, they also tend to fail.

In the morning, right after breakfast, Coran called him frantically. The day before the whole staff, including Lance, ordered some take out at a new restaurant, and now five colleagues had food poisoning. Meaning that five people were missing at the shop. 

Meaning Lance couldn‘t just leave them alone. 

Coran realized too late why Lance took the day off in the first place, tried to convince Lance to not spend his birthday at the shop, but Lance wouldn‘t have it. He would never leave his friends in an emergency like this just to go shopping with his sister. 

Nope! Not happening!

His parents weren‘t happy about his decision, but they supported him when he explained the situation. Said that they will figure something out with the relatives that wanted to celebrate with him, and that he should come back as soon as possible, if possible. 

Lance didn‘t mind as much as he thought he would. Spending his birthday working was not the best, of course, but at least all his friends were here. And he didn‘t even mind Keith‘s presence right next to him, especially when he started to refill Lance‘s cup next to the register with iced lattes whenever he saw it was empty.

What really stood out though was what happened when they finally closed the shop. Coran decided to close two hours earlier, and as soon as the last customer left, Lance‘s family started to pour in through the front door. Their arms were filled with food and presents and decoration which quickly got set up in the shop. 

Lance couldn‘t even comprehend what was happening. He thought that most of his relatives would be at their own homes, not bothering to come out all the way to Lance‘s place— not even his home, but the shop— to celebrate with him. 

Halfway through the night Lance managed to corner Coran, wanting to thank him properly for this wonderful idea. 

“Oh,” Coran chuckled lowly, twirling his moustache between his fingers, “I didn‘t come up with the idea though.” His eyes twinkled with delight when he took Lance‘s shoulder and turned him around, making him look at his friends listening to embarrassing stories from Lance‘s childhood. “It was all Keith‘s idea.”

Keith. Huh.

Wait—

“What?” Lance twirled back with a gasp, raising his eyebrows in surprise. This was surely a joke! This couldn‘t be anything but a joke!

“He said that you would love to have your family celebrate with you,” Coran answered, “and asked if I could call them to move the party to the shop.” 

It took Lance a while to swallow that pill.

The night ended with a photo shoot. One of Lance‘s cousins is a photographer and brought his camera along to save this special evening on film. First Lance‘s family got their fair share of photos, then his extended family, then all kids together, all his siblings, and a few special ones for his parents as well. 

And then came his other family. Hurdled on two tables and three chairs, all his colleagues from work who weren‘t at home hurling their guts out gathered around Lance for a photo that would later hang on one of the walls in the shop as a three times four feet poster. 

Lance got his own, small copy of it, since he loves the picture, and he loves the memory, and he loves… well…

He realized that evening that the way his heart was beating when Keith stood by his side for the photo was not normal. Neither was the way Lance‘s face lit up when Keith smiled at him, or how his brain stopped working when Keith slipped a piece of paper into his hand, a homemade birthday card in Keith‘s hardly readable handwriting.

The card as well as the photo are in Lance‘s hidden box, right at the top since it‘s the last time he added something. Lots of things have happened since then, but nothing that was worthy to cover the memory of realizing his feelings. 

Until today. 

This morning Lance woke up not knowing what life-changing information he would gain. 

Exactly. It‘s Keith‘s birthday. 

And Lance had no clue what to do. After Keith made his own birthday so amazing, you‘d think Lance would have thought of something to one-up Keith— or rather impress him. 

But… well…

In three months Lance couldn‘t think of a single thing Keith would like. Well, he could think of a lot of things, like merch from his favorite band, dog toys or herbal tea, but nothing that would, you know, make an impression.

Lance had no idea what to do. He thought about throwing a party but Keith doesn‘t really look like a party-guy. Or a guy that would like a lot of fuss about his birthday. Or any other day in his life. 

That‘s why they had to keep it low. Lance tried making a card on a napkin, drawing a lion and a cake on it until Hunk had the brilliant idea put this drawing on a cup, let everyone sign and place it on Keith‘s counter, together with a couple of the cupcakes he likes so much. 

It was a success. 

Keith came it, went to the back to change into his uniform, put his hair in this dangerously hot bun, walked around the counter, found the cupcakes and the cup, ate the first and prepared his favorite fruit tea in the second. It took Lance all of the strength he had in him to not tease Keith about the fact that he immediately started using the cup. 

He didn‘t even wash it out first! That‘s how much he likes it!

The hours pass almost too quickly, and soon they close the shop. Hunk left a bit earlier since the kitchen closes an hour before the counter, and since Pidge already finished her work, she left with him. 

It‘s only Lance and Keith now, making sure that their workspace is clean for the morning shift and that the people who come during the night to clean the floors and water the plants can make themselves a nice cup of coffee as well. 

While Keith is taking some leftover coffee beans to the back, Lance takes the opportunity to grab his box from the corner of the shop and put it back where he hid it two days ago. The shelves around the tree are the best spot he found yet, and all his secrets, including the napkin with his drawing from today, should be safe there. 

Should. 

Because only ten minutes later, when Lance finishes locking the back door of the shop and making sure that Coran‘s office is locked as well, he looks at the tree and at Keith who‘s standing right in front of the shelves. 

Keith, who is holding Lance‘s open box in his hands, and—

Lance‘s box—

In Keith‘s hands—

“NO!”

His scream makes Keith flinch and jump around, giving Lance the chance to wrench the box out of his hands and stumble away. His shoulder hits the bookshelf, but he ignores the slight pain to slam the cover shut, the loud ‘plop’ echoing through the empty shop and ringing in Lance‘s ears. He whirls around, clutches the box against his chest and wraps his arms around it, hoping to hide at least a little bit of his dignity like this. 

Just one glance at Keith’s knowing smile tells him that it’s useless. 

“So, that’s your box, huh?” Keith hums, slowly approaching Lance. His steps are in the same rhythm as Lance‘s heartbeat— or maybe it’s the other way around? 

Doesn‘t matter right now. What matters is that they are too loud, too fast, too close when Keith comes to a stop right in front of him. Less than a foot separates them, forcing a quiet gasp out of Lance. 

He doesn‘t feel like he has his body under control anymore. His heart is running a marathon, his stomach is doing backflips, his lungs inhale Keith‘s scent that‘s all around him like a drug, and his mind—

Oh, his mind is going haywire. Not a single thought is coming through, his brain an empty highway in the middle of a dessert. Stranded, left alone, lowkey panicking a little bit, all while having a good scream that echoes through from one ear to another, and back. 

For a good ten seconds— maybe more, maybe less, what is time in this situation?— Lance stands still, box clutched to his chest, shoulders drawn to his ear, figuring out what to do now. He can‘t possibly tell Keith the truth; no matter how he phrases the fact that he collected a bunch of memories in this box, most of them having a connection to Keith directly or the feelings Lance is harboring for him…

Yeah, that‘s not happening. So, Lance does what every sane person would do in this situation: he lies. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he half-huffs, half-laughs, “I just found it.” 

Keith tilts his head, utterly amused. “It’s not yours then?” He lifts his hand and places it on top of the book that Lance couldn‘t cover quick enough. “Then you can give it to me.” He tugs, just once, but enough to send Lance into the next panic. 

“Huh?” Lance might not have thought this through. He definitely did not think this through, but that‘s not a reason to give up so quickly. “N-no,” he squeals, cursing himself for the pathetic sound. 

Keith tuggs again. “Why not?” 

Well, Lance. Why the fuck not, hm? “Because-” 

The answer gets stuck in his throat as Keith wraps a hand around his wrist, pulls his arm away from the box and uses the leverage to steal it from Lance‘s hands. 

“Ssh,” Keith hushes him as Lance opens his mouth to protest, gently placing a finger on Lance‘s lips and making his heart skip a couple of beats. “I’ll give it back to you,” he murmurs softly, “promise. Right after…”

He doesn‘t say more, doesn‘t need to say more as he drops his finger and replaces it with his lips instead. Lance described them as plump before, always wondered if that was accurate, if they were as soft as they looked, as hot as he imagined them, as inviting as he wished they were and—

And they are. They feel plump and soft and hot and inviting as they press against Lance‘s lips, careful at first, growing confident as Lance doesn‘t push him away, as his hands wrap into the loose collar of Keith‘s shirt, as he pulls Keith closer to make sure that he doesn‘t stop. 

Their kiss lasts for a moment and an eternity. It makes his heart flutter like the wings of a bird, his stomach lift high like a leaf in the wind, his lungs burn as if he‘s drowning in the ocean. He forgot how to breathe, forgot how to do anything but kiss those wonderful lips, until Keith pulls away, breathing just as hard as Lance, smiling just as bright and staying just as close. 

It takes a long moment for Lance‘s whole world to reset and his body to settle. A wonderful heat is spreading over his cheeks, and he bites his lip to not ruin the mood with the laugh that‘s bubbling in his chest. 

“I already know what‘s in the box, by the way,” Keith murmurs, pressing the cold metal into Lance‘s free hand, the one that‘s not wrapped into his clothes to keep him in place. “You should find a better hiding spot for this.”

“Yeah, sure.” Lance chuckles, as if that was important right now. He tugs on Keith‘s shirt, bumps their noses together and whispers against his lips, “Right after—”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comments mean the world to me, so please tell me what you think about this fic.
> 
> Follow my [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/wertdifferenz.art/) for regular updates, more background info on the story and the occasional cat picture!


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